The Battle, Not The War
by Transformer-Slash
Summary: Begining at the end, Megatron sits in his cell when he receives an unexpected visitor. Spoilers for series finale of Tf:a, also many many pairings implied and otherwise. M for later chapters.
1. Visiting Hours

I don't know about anyone else, but the ending of Transformers Animated really pissed me off. SPOILERS if you haven't seen it. They start NOW.

Because I was so pissed I decided to write a fanfic about what happens after the series. It will alternate between the decepticon and autobot stories, until they collide.

* * *

Megatron watched with disdain as the Autobot guards paced the long corridor that led to his cell. There was never a time where one or the others optics were not locked firmly on him. He had no privacy. It was nothing less then what he expected of the Autobots. His capture had been humiliating, why shouldn't his imprisonment? At the very least Optimus had convinced his superiors that parading Megatron around too long was a bad idea. Optimus was no fool, he would never underestimate his enemy. Megatron had taken the time to commit the prime's name to his memory banks. It would be needed when he took his revenge.

However, that revenge would be long in coming. He knew that the Decepticon forces could not rally without him. Shockwave his trusted spy and Lugnut his loyal zealot, were both locked away. He knew not whether there was anyone left free to facilitate his escape. He did know that any news of the Decepticons would be kept from him. That was why they had him at the end of this long, dark hall. The lights were off, save a few that glowed blue near the floor. These were merely so the guards on shift could keep their footing. To an Autobot, the loss of light was devastating. To Megatron, it was soothing, if inconvenient. The fact that it was so dark meant he could not examine his bindings. Therefore he could not find a way to break them.

It was the Autobots' hope that he would fester and become mad in the silent darkness. Just like so many mechs before him. The Stockades were indeed a cruel prison. Megatron wondered if Shockwave and Lugnut would be allowed out with the normal prisoners. Surely they could stir an uprising, if they were. However, it was more likely that both would be kept in the same dark cells, but perhaps, less heavily guarded.

Megatron heard the sound of footsteps approach, it was not the patter of the two Autobot guards. He had memorized their footsteps by now. These were different. So light as to be nearly imperceptible, but they were there. Their approach was terribly slow and deliberate. Megatron watched as his guards continued their march, the same as ever. Could they not hear the footsteps. The soft sound of servos hitting metal floor? Megatron strained his audio sensors. There was something maddeningly familiar about the footsteps.

Whomever they belonged to, there were things Megatron could tell just by listening. The person was in no hurry, letting their heal touch down and shift to the front. They walked with grace and confidence. Perhaps it was an Autobot leader, coming to interrogate Megatron. If it were the footsteps would not have been so… familiar. Megatron got the feeling he had heard them many times, with the same approach, but where he did not know. They drew nearer and nearer. Even in the darkness Megatron was sure he should have seen their owner by now. At least he should have seen the glow of their optics, but he did not.

He strained to listen, to see. Finally something appeared to him. The glow of two optics, right up near his bars. Red optics.

"Hello, Megatron." A sly voice whispered. It was soft and barely there, but to Megatron's sensors it rung clear. It was unmistakable.

"Starscream." Megatron said, a slight tone of disbelief. "I thought I took care of you for good."

"Hmm, wishful thinking." Starscream's voice seemed very far away, even though his optics were just behind the softly glowing bars of his cell. "You failed to destroy me with your cannon blast."

"I can see that." Megatron responded, still the picture of calm. "Tell me, Starscream, how is it you just waltz in passed two armed guards? Have you given yourself over to the Autobots in exchange for diplomatic immunity?"

"Don't insult me." Starscream said with notable disgust. His voice was still distant. "I walked in, because they cannot see me."

"I suppose they cannot hear you either?" Megatron asked, and he noticed one of the guards give him a skeptical glance. The guard decided that Megatron was beginning to succumb to the Stockades 'charms', it made many prisoners go insane after a time.

"No, my dear leader." Starscream said, sarcasm covering the latter part. "Only you can see me, or hear me."

"Why is that?" Megatron sneered.

"Because two Autobot's succeeded where you failed." Starscream said slowly, and he began to advance a few more steps, walking right through the bars. "I'm offline."

"Fascinating." Megatron smirked in the darkness. "I suppose you have come to plague me, even in death."

"Were it that simple." Starscream sighed. "Not that haunting your every waking moment until you slip into madness isn't tempting…" Starscream came closer still to Megatron, who was bound against the wall of his cell. Stasis cuffs bound his arms above his head, and his legs were welded to the wall by restraints.

"Then why are you here, Starscream?" Megatron narrowed his optics. Even in death, he wondered if Starscream could still cause physical harm. Normally, Starscream was no threat, but a ghost of Starscream with an immobile Megatron seemed like a recipe for danger.

"I want you to help me with something." Starscream said delicately. He avoided the word 'need', he wanted to come into this negotiation with the upper hand.

"Do I look like I'm in a position to help you?" Megatron scoffed.

"No, but that is what will make this deal so sweet for you." Starscream smirked. "I can help you escape."

"Go on." Megatron's attention was on the red optics before him, and he slowly looked up and down the ghostly body that was cut out of the darkness. It was Starscream alright, every curve of his body, every nuance of his stance proclaimed it.

"This new form of mine provides certain advantages." Starscream began his explanation. "I have found I can tamper with the Autobots' security machines. I can undo your stasis cuffs, for instance."

"In death you will be more useful then you ever were alive." Megatron was feeling triumph already rise in his chest. Once his cuffs were off he could break the leg restraints, and kill his guards.

"Of course, your escape will need more then that, it will need a distraction." Starscream continued. "I can provide that as well, I can implant myself into their computer mainframe, and cause alarms to sound in every sector. While the Autobots scramble to gain control of their facility, you can make good your escape."

"Excellent work, Starscream. I am reminded why I made you my second in command all those stellar cycles ago." Megatron's smirk then darkened. "I am also reminded that everything you offer, comes with a catch. So, what is it?"

"I want a body." Starscream said outright. "Nothing more, nothing less. I want you to steal a protoform so that I can implant my spark into it."

"What assurance do you have that I will not simply betray you once you help me escape?" Megatron asked. Starscream never left any bases uncovered. Megatron wanted to know what leverage his seeker still had. He wanted all the cards on the table before he took the bet.

"I can haunt you." Starscream's face became contorted into a dark sneer. "I can torture you. You are the only one who can hear me and see me, I can make you a raving lunatic in the eyes of your troops. In you recharge I can enter your processor and shift things as I please. I can touch your spark, all I would have to do is reach my hand through your chest." Starscream decided to demonstrate as he sunk his hand right through the proud symbol on Megatron's chest. His hand neared the spark chamber, and Megatron shuddered because he could really feel it. Starscream stopped and withdrew, a smile drawn across his entire face.

"You have no idea how tempted I am to just torture you into insanity here in the Stockades. It would be such a wonderful revenge." Starscream said, almost wistful. "As it stands, I want you alive and sane, so that you can help me get a new body."

"When I help you, what then?" Megatron said, trying to keep his voice from shaking with the shock of what had just happened.

"We will figure it out from there." Starscream mumbled vaguely.

"Fine then. When will we carry out this plan?" Megatron thought vaguely of a human expression he had once heard 'making a deal with the devil' and Starscream certainly looked like a demon with his red optics and sly smile.

"Soon, my lord. As soon as the time is right." Starscream came close to Megatron. Their faces almost touched. "Let's seal it, with a kiss." He said teasingly. Then touched his ghostly lips to Megatron's, leaving a tingling feeling that was barely there. He vanished into the darkness, leaving Megatron to watch and wait.

* * *

Ghost Starscream = best plot device ever. Next chapter is autobots. Give to me your hatreds. Oh, and if you have any comments on things that cheesed you off about the series end, speak them to me, and I may resolve them with the power of fanfic.


	2. Epitaph

Now for the autobot end of things. Sorry this update took so long. I actually had this written for a while, but I had to revise it twenty times. I'm still not happy with it. It'll have to do though, because the show must go on.

All the same warnings as before. Please critique brutally and honestly. Or make up slanderous lies, either way.

* * *

"He was our friend to." Bumblebee groused. Jazz had been hiding away from the festivities that followed their return to Cybertron. Megatron had been defeated, two worlds saved, and everyone was celebrating in the streets, everyone but Jazz. Normally, he was the first one to a party and the last to leave, but his spark was not in it, could not be in it. Prowl was dead.

"Yeah, I know." Jazz responded blandly.

"He wouldn't want us to be sad!" Bumblebee insisted. "He'd want us to celebrate… Or maybe he'd be grouchy about the music. Either way, he wouldn't want you to hang back in the shadows."

"Maybe your right lil' bot." Jazz offered quietly. "But then you'd be the first to know about not doing what Prowl wanted." At this Bumblebee floundered.

"W-well, uh, I-" Bumblebee went silent. He looked up at Jazz's visor, wishing he could read the optics underneath. "Jazz… I don't want to lose you to." He mumbled simply. Then wandered back to where Bulkhead and Sari were waiting for him.

"Any luck?" Bulkhead asked.

"Does it look like I had any luck?" Bumblebee gestured back to where Jazz still sat alone, his tone exasperated.

"No, I guess not." Bulkhead frowned and scratched his head.

"What is with you guys?!" Sari exclaimed, causing both her friends to look at where she hovered between them.

"What do you mean?" Bumblebee blinked his optics a few times, shocked at the sudden outburst.

"Prowl died, and you're both acting like we should all just be over it!" She shouted. "Jazz is the only one of you acting like he's supposed to."

"Really?" Bulkhead asked, looking more then a little confused.

"Yes, really." Sari sighed. "We're supposed to mourn."

"Mourn?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yeah. Sit around, cry, talk about how he will be missed." Sari insisted. Her eyes had the slightest hint of tears at the corners. She was angry that no one seemed to care that one of their best friends was dead, except Jazz and herself.

"We did that." Bumblebee sighed. "At the funeral service. Everyone talked about him, and then we put him in the vault. So it's done now."

"NO!" Sari shouted. "It's not done! You can't just bury someone and forget them."

"Sari..." Bulkhead looked at her sadly. "I-I do miss Prowl. I'll never forget him. None of us will. But on Cybertron, once someone is in the vault, you aren't supposed to mourn. You're supposed to celebrate their sacrifice."

"Maybe on Cybertron." Sari's tears finally began to slip down her face. "But Prowl died on Earth!" With that Sari jetted off away from her companions.

"SARI!" Bumblebee called after her, and began to move forward, when Bulkhead's heavy hand stopped him.

"I think we need to let her go." Bulkhead said.

"Why?!" Bumblebee turned to look accusingly at Bulkhead, for letting Sari slip out of sight.

"Because, Prowl said we should let her tell us what she needs." Bumblebee looked up at Bulkhead, a mixture of acceptance and anger on his face.

"If everyone keeps mourning like this, it'll be like they're offline to." Bumblebee sighed and sat down heavily on the low wall that separated a small park-like area, and the main buildings of Iacon. He didn't feel much like celebrating anymore.

Meanwhile, Sari had found her destination. She had flown back to were Prowl's funeral service was held. It was not like any graveyard she had ever seen. She had gone inside the building that was the back drop for the funeral area. The funeral area was like a military memorial, on which the faces could be changed. Inside was nothing like a memorial. It was more like a vast filing cabinet. It stretched high into the air and the hall that comprised the whole of the interior stretched to a point that Sari could not see. Sari had to hover even to see the lowest names. They were, of course, written in Cybertronian, but after a moment of staring, the letters made perfect sense. She determined that the first line was the name. The next line bore two numbers, which were separated by a dash. These, she could only assume, were the dates. Beneath that a third line bore another jumble of numbers, the meaning of which was unclear.

Sari floated slowly through the vault, looking at all the names accompanied by dates that spanned incredible amounts of time. None of them bore a proper epitaph. It all seemed sad to Sari. The way that dead Cybertronians were filed away, never to be visited by mourners bearing flowers. Suddenly Sari saw a change in the white expanse of her peripheral vision. Someone else was with her. Someone who was mostly white themselves. She looked up to see Jazz standing in front of the wall, his palm resting beneath the lines of mysterious text.

"Jazz?" Sari asked, trying to be gentle in her approach. She didn't want to startle him. However, he glanced her way and smiled softly seeming to tell her that he had known she was there for a while. She drew a little nearer, to see the name she already knew. "I was wrong then." She mused.

" 'Bout what?" Jazz asked in an absent way.

"Some of them do get mourners." Sari sighed. "Not with flowers though."

"I wish I had some. Prowl loved flowers." Jazz was back to staring emptily at the engraving.

"Jazz, do you know what the third line is?" Sari asked, trying to keep the air in the vault from going dead and silent again.

"That's a serial number. Tells 'bout how a 'bot was protoformed, dig?" Jazz seemed open to making conversation, as if it would help him to cope.

"What does Prowl's say?" Sari asked.

"Says he was from a mold." Jazz looked a Sari with a somewhat apologetic expression. "You don' know what that means either, slipped my processor."

"Do you think you could explain?" Sari asked gently.

"Well, y'know how you got protoformed when the prof. touched your protoform?" Sari nodded. "Well for most of us, it ain't like that. Some 'bots got parents, but most are made with a mold. Sort of a code they feed the protoform, and it gets it's plan offa' that."

"So, it's Prowl's model number." Sari choked. It was almost too sad to bear. Prowl was nothing but a name, two dates, and a serial number written on a wall.

"Yeah." Jazz sunk down into a sitting position. As if he was too tired to stand up. He looked at Sari, who hovered there, her shoulders shaking with sobs. "C'mere." Jazz said softly. Sari lowered herself down to where Jazz sat, and landed on his shoulder. Her hands and chin rested on the top of his head while he cooed a few 'there there's'. Sari wondered if comforting her would make him feel any better.

"Thanks Jazz." She mumbled. Then felt a familiar feeling form in her processor. It was the feeling she got just before information she needed was transferred. It was a state in which she could still move and talk, but for a moment wasn't quite herself. She was her subject, entering the ultimate diagnostics program. It usually only happened when she intended, but now it was activating without her will.

Jazz felt Sari stiffen oddly. "You alright?" He asked.

"Fine." She answered quickly, sharply. She needed him to be quite, she had to focus. The stream of information flew by her in a ribbon. It was too hard to capture it all. However, what she really needed was snipped out and tucked away into the larger picture. In a moment it was done. She came out of her mild trance, more shaken then usual. "Jazz…"

"What is it?" He asked, carefully taking her off his shoulder to make sure she was alright.

"Prowl, he isn't dead." Sari said. It was not the panicked rambling it might have been. Instead, her statement held all the authority and clarity her diagnostic ability granted her.

"What?" Jazz asked, sure he hadn't heard right.

"I mean to say that, Prowl's spark isn't extinguished." Sari rephrased. "Just inside his own body, but somehow, in yours, a piece of it still exists."

"How…" Jazz said slowly. "Did you know that?"

"You mean you knew?" Sari said, a bit confused. She thought perhaps it had been transferred just before Prowl's death, or something along the lines.

"Yes." Jazz realized that he had slipped up. "It doesn't matter. Yes, a bit of his spark is in mine."

"Right." Sari said slowly. "Which means that we can transfer it to a new protoform." A sudden dawning of realization came onto his face.

"Sari… That's been tried." Jazz shook his head sadly. "It don't work like that."

"Yes. We'd need two more components." Sari continued to carry a look of authority. "A piece of the Allspark, and of his armor. That way once the small part of his spark was transferred, the rest of it could be called back."

"Sari, that's…" Jazz looked up at Prowl's engraving. "I-" He looked at her, and saw the knowing in her eyes. The spark transfer of a bot on the edge of death was not unheard of, what was the difference? "Do you really think that'll work?"

"I know it will." Sari looked as serious as she ever had in her brief life.

* * *

I love Sari's magic plot-devise powers. Yes, I am implying that Jazz and Prowl are spark-bonded. If you have any objections you may speak them. I am always open to suggestions, but I do sort of have a plan, not really. I make no promises about updates, except that they don't happen unless I get feed-back.


	3. Escape

This has been written and sitting in my computer for months. I need to get some momentum to continue this story, so I thought I'd post it and see what you think. The next chapter is Autobots, and I'm taking a poll: Which Autobots do you want? Your choices are: A) Optimus and Sentinel finally have their showdown. B) Jazz and Sari begin putting their plans into action. C) Fill in your own idea!

I own nothing, and I love flames and hard-core critique

Without Further a due, the next segment.

* * *

Blitzwing had waited a long time for the lights to go out. The autobot guard's optics glowed softly, and footsteps echoed from everywhere, but he had to keep his nerve. Tonight was the night he had planned for his escape. Originally, it was just himself he was going to bust out, but his plans had grown to encompass the pitiful Starscream clones, and one other. He had decided to widen his escape when he saw the guards dragging Lugnut in. They had moved him all the way to the back of the cell block, and he was being kept from joining the other prisoners in the yard or for fuel. Blitzwing didn't think Lugnut even knew he was there.

The two clones had ended up sharing Blitzwing's cell. He was surprised at how quickly they both adapted to life in the stockades, each gaining a nickname to be distinguished from the other in a way besides color and helmet shape. Blitzwing had broken out of the stockades alone once before, but getting Lugnut and the two clones out would be a more difficult matter. He believed he could handle it.

"Are you two ready?" He asked in a hushed tone, his cold face dominate.

"No." The white clone was nicknamed Ramjet.

"Your brilliant plan cannot fail! I would follow you to the pit itself." The orange one was nicknamed Sunstorm.

"Zhat is what I thought." Blitzwing moved close to the cell door. He peered out down the corridor. He watched a few Autobot guards slump near the door. They were toward the end of their shift, and both much fatigued. It would not be long before they slipped into a stasis nap. Blitzwing turned and saw the two clones crouched beneath the vent, waiting. Blitzwing nodded, and he shakily stepped onto the clones shoulders, his hands working quickly to undo the vent screws.

"You're not heavy at all." Grunted Ramjet. Blitzwing ignored the comment, and gently lowered the vent cover so that it would not clatter. The clones stooped to give him a boost all the way inside the vent system. The vents were cramped for one of Blitzwing's size, but he managed to maneuver through them. He knew that he could simply keep wriggling until he reached the vent that led outside, but Lugnut would never fit into the vents, and so his plan had to be more drastic.

"I think he'll come back for us." Ramjet said, putting a hand on Sunstorm's shoulder in mock reassurance.

"He's far too clever to leave an asset such as yourself behind." Sunstorm returned the gesture, feeling unsure of Blitzwing's trustworthiness himself.

Blitzwing finally found himself just above Lugnut's cell, it would be easy to drop down into it, but being inside the cell did him no good. Lugnut was bound by arm and leg stasis cuffs. It was precautionary, Lugnut could have easily smashed his cell-walls otherwise. Blitzwing hissed to try and get the big oaf's attention.

"Who goes there?" Lugnut looked around startled for a moment.

"Hush, Lugnut, it's me." Blitzwing whispered, hoping that the guards were well out of earshot.

"Blitzwing?" Lugnut looked up in the direction of the vent, not quite able to see through the slats from his vantage. He could not move to get a better view.

"Miss me?" Blitzwing's random face made a brief appearance before switching back to his icy persona. "I am going to get you out of here, Lugnut. I will be coming around zhe front of your cell. Once I get your cuffs off, be ready for a fight."

"Fool, you should have escaped without me to arrange plans for freeing Megatron." Lugnut muttered. He couldn't understand why Blitzwing, more than capable of freeing himself, would bother to come back for him.

"You idiot!" Blitzwing's angry face snapped. "I am going to get you out of here, and when I do I'm going to pound you into particles." With that, Blitzwing slunk back into the upper reaches of the vent system. He made it out to the main yard, where he finally dropped out. There were no guards in the dark courtyard, all the prisoners were on lock down. Blitzwing's internal clock had been scrambled, but he had still managed to pinpoint when the guards would change shifts. It was during this change that Blitzwing had planned his escape. It all had to go precisely.

Blitzwing had just approached the door back into the main cell block when suddenly alarms blared. Blitzwing felt his insides freeze. He busted through the doors, prepared to run, but he found himself in a room of chaos. Every cell had suddenly flown open, and the inhabitants not in stasis cuffs had rushed out and begun attacking the guards. It appeared as if someone else's plans for escape had been scheduled for this night.

Blitzwing rushed into the fray, he had to unshackled Lugnut. He found the behemoth in his cell, still lying immobile on his back. He smashed off the stasis cuffs, and grabbed a large clamp-hand and began pulling his friend through the sea of rioting bodies.

"How did you manage this?" Lugnut shouted above the noise.

"I didn't, someone else must have-"

"MEGATRON IS ESCAPING!" Blitzwing could not tell if the yell had come from a guard, or a prisoner. He noted however how suddenly the fighting to restrain the guards became more violent, the fugitives were out to kill. Blitzwing focused on getting out, escaping from the violent crowd was the only important thing now.

"Can you transform?" Blitzwing shouted back to Lugnut, whose hand he still had firmly in his grasp.

"Yes!" Lugnut replied, but Blitzwing could not hear him over a sudden sonic boom. The two Starscream clones had transformed and burst out through the front door.

"We have to get out of here!" Blitzwing shouted, it had become nearly impossible to move through the dense crowd, and he felt stray blows hit him every few seconds. "Transform, and rise up!" Lugnut did as he was told, he transformed into his alt mode and pulled up above the brawl. Blitzwing did the same and they blasted out after Ramjet and Sunstorm.

They caught up to the other two fairly quickly, and without another word between any of them, they followed Blitzwing to an asteroid many miles away. Finally the party landed, feeling exhausted from the long trip and the fight that occurred just before it.

"Is everyone in one piece?" Blitzwing asked. "Or three?" his crazy face chimed in.

"Oh yes, we're all quite well, thanks to you, Blitzwing!" Sunstorm immediately began sucking up. "May I say, that your plan was simply fantastic. I have never seen such a well executed distraction!"

"Zhat was not in zhe plan." Blitzwing admitted wearily.

"Then surely it was your excellent luck that-"

"Listen, Sunstorm, I need a moment alone vith Lugnut, would you und Ramjet go elsewhere?"

"Yes, yes, right away!" Sunstorm grabbed his fellow clone by the arm and drug him off.

"I'm not going to eavesdrop!" Ramjet objected.

"Do you think what was said in the crowd was true?" Lugnut asked, sounding very excited. "Our exalted leader has escaped, we can be reunited to serve his glorious cause."

"If it iz true zhat makes our lives a lot easier." Blitzwing said simply. "In zhe meantime, I have arranged for uz to meet vith Swindle to have our armaments replaced."

"That traitor?" Lugnut asked angrily. "I refuse to accept auxiliary from such-"

"Listen you gigantic oaf, ve don't have any choice here!" Blitzwing's angered face made itself known again. "You want to help Megatron huh? Well how are ve going to do zhat without our weapons?"

"I hate to interrupt." Ramjet said as he approached the two. "But there isn't anyone at all aware of our location."

"Then why are you bothering us?" Lugnut looked at the Starscream clone contemptuously.

"Lugnut, let me handle zhis one, okay?" Blitzwing's cold face had regained control. "Ramjet, ze bot who doesn't know vhere ve are iz definitely not a Decepticon, right?"

"Oh, certainly not!" Ramjet replied happily. "In fact, it looks to be a whole mess of Autobots. No doubt coming to arrest us."

"Excellent." Blitzwing said, walking back to the area of the asteroid where Sunstorm was craning his neck up to watch Swindle's ship approach.

"Shouldn't we hide, or prepare to fight with the Autobots?" Lugnut followed Blitzwing, feeling very much alarmed.

"Zhat won't be necessary." Blitzwing shrugged.

"B-but that Starscream clone said-"

"His name iz Ramjet, und you can trust vhat he says as much as you can trust Starscream." Blitzwing filled Lugnut in.

"Oh, I think you can trust him even less." Sunstorm greeted them. "That wonderfully thrifty 'con Swindle appears to be paying us a visit."

"Yes, ve are expecting him." Blitzwing said. A few seconds later Swindle's modest vessel landed, and the arms dealer exited.

"Blitzy, you rable-rouser, good to see ya!" Swindle said patting the triple-changer on his back. "You're becoming one of my best customers, y'know that?"

"Enough vith ze pleasantries." Blitzwing said coldly. "Give me ze mods I ordered, the credits have already been sent."

"So they have." Swindle said delightedly, looking at a data pad he was holding. "Let's see; two sets of nulrays for the trouble-twins over there, a punch-of-kill-everything for the big lug, and ice-heat blasters for you."

"Good." Blitzwing said, taking his own weapon and fastening it in place on his back. The other weapons were handed out to their appropriate owners. "Alright Swindle, your services are no longer needed, be off with you."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Swindle said, glancing nervously over at Lugnut, who looked ready to test his new weapon. "Pleasure doin' business Blitzy." Swindle said heading back for his ship. "Oh, by-the-by, there are rumors the old war monger escaped to, I'd look into it if I were you."

"Thanks, ve vill." Blitzwing nodded. Swindle blasted off, leaving behind what would become the first members of Megatron's new army.


	4. Treason

This has no editing, beware. If you see any glaring typos, point them out so I can fix them. I wanted to get another Autobot chapter up, because the Decepticon chapters write themselves. Sooo, please enjoy. If you don't enjoy, tell my why so I can fix it. Thanks.

* * *

Three protoform blanks. That was all they had managed to save from Earth's moon where Starscream had been keeping a vast store of them. Naturally they were now being kept under heavy guard in Iacon. No one was allowed to be near them without the highest level of clearance, but what was allowed did not matter so much anymore to Jazz. Ever since his coming to Earth he had begun to question his society and the things it found taboo. Interaction with organics was one thing that had been forbidden, yet Jazz had been to Earth and he had seen that not all organic beings were to be feared. What was more he had seen that mechanics and organics could be brought together in harmony, as they were in Sari.

It had come to the spy's attention that the Autobot way was not always the right way. In this case, he knew it was not. They would never let Jazz have the protoform to resurrect Prowl, of that he was sure. Prowl had sacrificed himself to save them all, but that did not amount to much it seemed. Already people had all but stopped talking about it, life continued at its infuriatingly fast pace on Cybertron. Jazz was put back on elite guard duty immediately; there was no such thing as personal leave. He stared at the endless piles of data files he must complete to explain the catastrophic battle on Earth and he felt discontent with his lot in life as never before. Jazz was not a pessimist. He made rain into sunshine and bad news into opportunities, but this was a situation he could not see the sunny side of.

"Shifts over, Jazz." Cliffjumper informed, as he passed carrying a box already half-full with data pads. "You got any reports for me to pick up?"

"Not today, CJ. I don't seem to get anywhere with these things lately." Jazz confessed.

"Huh, you and me both pal." The little red bot huffed, and he continued to heft his box down the corridor.

Jazz walked out of the elite guard center, he was going to pay yet another visit to Sari. She had been on Cybertron the past Deca Cycle. The Autobot scientists were fascinated with her, and despite Optimus Prime's vehement objections, Sari had been allowing them to study her. She believed that there would be some secret clue that might reveal why her protoform was sent to Earth, but as of yet there had been no progress. She lived in a building complex and shared her quarters with Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Ratchet. Jazz came to visit them every solar cycle when his shift ended. He wanted to talk to Sari alone about what they should do concerning Prowl. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't want to drag the innocent girl down with him. However getting Sari alone was supremely difficult. She was surrounded by researchers half the time and by her Autobuddies the other half.

However today, Jazz was lucky. He arrived at Sari's building to find her standing outside. It seemed almost as though she were trying to hide, the way she hung back toward the alley between buildings.

"Hey, Jazz." She greeted him in a monotone, not bothering to look up from her shoes.

"How you been?" The question was nearly rhetorical. It was obvious how she was doing.

"I've been better, Jazz. I think we all have." Sari sighed. "I haven't had a moment to myself in a week or more, it's driving me a little nuts. Have you had any luck?"

"Nah, they still won't let anybot get near the protoform blanks. After the attack on the Cyber Ninja stronghold we didn't have any protoforms for a long time, and the supply is still low. It takes a long time to create a protoform, and naturally occurring ones are rare." Jazz reported.

"So what's that mean to us?" Sari looked up her eyes glowing with a keen intelligence.

"It means that unless we make one ourselves we've got no chance of carrying out our plan." Sari considered this for a moment.

"Is it possible for us to make one?" She asked.

"No, the raw materials are under the same guard as the finished product." Jazz sat down tiredly. "I been racking my processor for days tryin' to think of a way to get our hands on one, but it just ain't goin' to fly."

"Jazz, I'm about to say something crazy, but I can't help but thinking we should just take one." Sari looked up at him, her mouth a serious line.

"You mean steal one?"

"Yes, do you think we could?" She asked.

"Yes, I probably could, but the question is whether I should. If this were just me Sari, I'd go for it, but I can't put you in jeopardy too." At this Sari grew angry.

"I am not a little kid, Jazz, despite what everyone seems to think. If there is any hop of saving Prowl, even if it's dangerous, or illegal, or whatever we have to take it." Jazz almost shuddered at how piercing her eyes were. She had grown up in such a short time.

"Okay, but if we do this we need a way to get off planet. Splitsville. If we stay, we'll be caught for sure." Jazz noticed his voice become hushed almost involuntarily. What they were talking about was no less than treason.

"I have an idea." Sari said quickly. "Meet me at the Hall of Knowledge tomorrow as soon as your shift ends."

"Alright, but Sari-"

"Hey, Jazz!" Jazz jumped at the sudden loud voice behind him. It was only Bumblebee.

"Oh, hi Bee." Jazz collected his cool instantly.

"Have you seen Sari?" Bumblebee asked, looking around as if she might pop out of thin air.

"Yeah, she's right here. Wanted to go out and get some alone time, guess I ruined it." Jazz got up and revealed Sari standing in the alley.

"If you wanted to be alone Sari, you could have told someone. I've been worried." Bumblebee didn't look like he had been worried at all.

"Right, well I guess we can head back to the others now." Sari smiled and skipped up to Bumblebee. "See you later, Jazz." She called over her shoulder. Jazz watched as they disappeared into the building. Sari had become quiet the actress.


	5. Nostalgia

I wrote this before the previous chapter, but I wanted to keep my alternating faction pattern. So, in typical ME fashion, this had been written for well over a month and sat on my computer looking like a kicked puppy. I love ghoststarscream. I love him SO MUCH.

Please flame~ If you don't comment, I don't continue. Simple as that.

* * *

Megatron had waited an orbital cycle in his cell, the constant pace of Autobots outside. He was given a small ration of energon once a day. This was fed to him without removing his restraints. After his initial capture Megatron had not chosen to imbibe his ration, but rather to spit it into his guard's face. This had earned him a deca cycle without energon, in his sedentary state it was a survivable stint, but an extremely uncomfortable one. Regardless, he did it again and again. He would take enough to survive and then spit the rest in the face of whatever unfortunate Autobot had been assigned to Megatron's care that shift. Eventually they had given up on punishing him for this behavior.

Since Starscream's visit Megatron had been taking his ration without incident, a fact for which his Autobot guards were very glad. There was talk among them that he might be subdued enough now to stand trial for his war crimes. He silenced these rumors when he bit the energon tube and jerked his head sharply; causing the guard that had been feeding him to slam into the bars of his cell. The guard was knocked unconscious, but otherwise unhurt. Megatron viewed this as a great pity. He needed to take his ration, for any day now Starscream would implement his plan and Megatron would be freed. For that he needed his strength to be at its peak.

Megatron waited like the soul of patience. A deca cycle had gone by since Starscream's visit, but the warlord never wondered if his seeker would not carry out the plan. He knew Starscream too well for that. The conniving mech had too much to gain from their deal, and he held all the cards. It was an unsavory position for Megatron. At long last the footsteps sounded again.

"Hello, Starscream." Megatron acknowledged the ghostly silhouette as it fazed through his cell bars.

"Miss me?" Starscream inquired.

"More than I have ever missed you in my life." Megatron answered.

"I thought that might be the case." Starscream said, "You'll be thrilled to hear that I have examined this Primus forsaken pit from end to end, and have prepared the ideal escape plan."

"I am thrilled." Megatron agreed. "Would you care to elaborate on this plan?"

"Of course, Lord Megatron, I'll let you know all about it." Starscream said, giving Megatron a sly look that the warlord liked not at all.

"I'd appreciate your expediency in this matter." Megatron prompted, shifting a little in his restraints. He did not want to wait any longer to have his cumbersome bonds removed.

"Rather than tell you Megatron, I will show you your escape route." Starscream took a few steps closer to his formers leader and reached out with an ethereal, clawed hand. Megatron felt the urge to shy away from it, the desire to back down from anything was unfamiliar to him, but there was something disturbing about Starscream's ghostly state, and it shook even the mighty Lord Megatron to his spark. In that hand there was power. Starscream touched his leader's helm softly and the knowledge of the escape plan was transferred in a terrible rush to Megatron. Information assailed his cerebro-circuits, and it hurt. Megatron felt a cry of pain try to work its way through his vocal processor. He resisted it and came back to himself as if waking from a nightmare. Starscream had shown him the way out of the stockades and simultaneously told him that the alarms would go off, signaling his time to move. For a moment all the world had been tinged with Starscream's dark perspective.

"Did you like that little trick, Megatron?" Starscream mocked, "I learned that information sharing method when I was trying to obtain a body on my own. I had succeeded in implanting a few thoughts before, and so I went to try and persuade a guard to unlock the protoform storage for me. However, it seemed he wasn't strong enough to bear the brunt of my will, and my attempt killed him. I figured you'd be able to handle it."

"Starscream, I do not like your continued attempts to exert power over me. I will be killed before I am subjugated, and you will be without my aid. If you wish to press your luck, choose your method wisely." An intense gaze passed between them. Both wanted power over the situation, and neither could have it completely.

"Understood, my lord." Starscream finally consented. He then reached his hand into the locking mechanisms of each restraint and undid them with a muffled click. Megatron held onto his hand restraints as they were undone so he could lower himself silently to his cell floor. Starscream did not speak any further, he did not need to, the plan in all its detail had been shared with Megatron directly, and the specter departed up through the ceiling.

The alarms sounded five cycles later, and Megatron's cell door flew open. He walked out calmly to two very surprised guards. They were almost as big as Megatron himself, and obviously very powerful and elite autobots.

"Halt, get back in your cell!" One of his guards shouted, aiming two rather nasty looking arm-mounted blasters at the Decepticon warlord.

"Are you sure you want those to be your last words?" Megatron asked.

"Get back in your cell!" The guard yelled again.

"So be it." Megatron approached the guard which had been yelling with slow, deliberate footsteps. The guard fired, but it was too late, Megatron had grabbed both his arms and with a swift tugging motion they were rent from his chassis. For a moment the guard remained on his feet, and then he collapsed as a gush of energon and hydraulic fluid slicked the floor all around him.

"All Spark preserve us." The second guard murmured as Megatron came toward him.

"The All Spark is in far too many pieces to be of use to you now." Megatron said. He still clutched an arm of the previous guard in his hand. "It's not a fusion cannon, but it will do." He pulled the blaster off the severed limb and snapped it onto his own arm, and then fired it point blank at the Autobot's helm. The force of it knocked the decapitated frame into the wall with a satisfying metal ring. Megatron laughed, he had not felt so vindicated in ages.

The doors were all open, the hallways wound out, and in each Megatron found increasing chaos. It seemed that Starscream had freed not only Megatron, but every prisoner in the stockades. It was a brilliant distraction indeed. Megatron came upon a prisoner, surrounded by four Autobot guards, and with four sharp blaster shots Megatron killed them.

"Lord Megatron?" The prisoner babbled, "I must have finally lost my processor. I just got saved by Megatron. When I get out of here, I'm finding the nearest Decepticon recruiting center."

"I always wondered why criminals among the Autobots remained in a society that would persecute them. Perhaps you could enlighten me." Megatron looked at the former Autobot, his symbol had been blackened as a sign of his shame.

"When you screw up they lock you in here, they don't give you a chance to defect." The prisoner replied.

"What is it that you did to be landed here?" The alarms still blared, but Megatron did not care. He knew that he would have all the time on Cybertron to escape with the prisoners rioting on every floor of the fortress.

"I ran a data news feed that, according to them, 'incited rebellion, and disobedience'. It was simple as that." He confessed. "I didn't think they could keep me in here for something like that, but y'know the ruling class can do whatever they want to us. If we try to speak up about it, you end up like me or worse."

"I know it all too well." Megatron agreed. "You will always be welcome in the ranks of the Decepticons, but I would like you to do me a favor for saving your life."

"Sure thing, Boss-bot." The former Autobot looked up at Megatron, and the admiration was clear in his optics. The warlord felt a nostalgia, this youth was just like many others he had won over to his cause when the war first started; oppressed, outspoken, not inherently a criminal, just an individual. These had been Megatron's original soldiers, after awhile his side only attracted the scum of Cybertronian society, murderers and scam artist joined in droves. Yet where had the ideologues gone? Apparently they had been locked away by the Autobots, who had remained over all these years so frightened of Megatron's original uprising.

"Tell the other prisoners that I am free." Megatron pulled the blaster off his arm and handed it to the former Autobot. "And gain revenge for your oppression."

"All hail Megatron!" The prisoner shouted, and he ran down the corridor, screaming as though he were mad.

Megatron followed at a slower pace. At last he reached one of the outlets from the stockades; this particular one was intended for the transport of energon in and out of the facility. Megatron passed through the energon storage room, he took three cubes from it and stood in the doorway. He smacked one of the cubes violently against the doorframe, setting its delicate energy components into an explosive chain reaction, and he threw this back into the storage room. He then transformed into his alt mode, stowing the two remaining cubes in his cockpit and began flying into space. The room behind him exploded, blowing a gigantic hole in the stockades, through which prisoners would soon pour as blood from a wound.

The Autobot machine's impenetrable armor had been chinked, and soon the Decepticons would rise glorious from its ashes. Not only was Megatron free, his army was freed with him. He rode the shockwave from the explosion far out into space. It was about a megacycle before he had to propel himself again. Megatron drifted through the inky darkness of space, seeking the small planetoid Starscream had shown him in their shared thought. It was clear to Megatron why he must seek such a specific meeting place; this was where Starscream had orchestrated the landing of a ship for their use. At last he found it and alighted, and found Starscream already awaiting him.

"You truly think of everything." Megatron began. "You freed me, you freed my army, and you procured us a vessel. I am reminded why I made you my right hand all those stellar cycles ago."

"Spare me your praise." Starscream growled. "I am doing this for my own benefit."

"As you do everything." Megatron approached his spectral companion, and began examining the small vessel beside him. It was obviously a privately owned ship, from the exterior Megatron could tell it was not Cybertronian, though the race which built it must have been of similar size based on its proportions, the hatch was large enough for him to get through, although he had to stoop a little. It opened into a large bridge area, which extended all the way from the window to the engines. It was closer quarters than Megatron would have liked, the ceiling extended only a few meters above his head. "It will do."

"Beggars can't be choosers, mighty Megatron." Starscream chided.

"I do not beg, Starscream. That is your department." Starscream responded with only an indignant huff. "Of course, I do not wish to argue. We shall be spending too long in close quarters for that."

"Far longer than I would be willing to, were circumstances different." Starscream strutted past Megatron, throwing himself into one of the control console chairs. He stretched out languidly and gave Megatron a belligerent glance. "Well are you going to get this tub flying, or what?"

"In due time." Megatron responded. "First, we should determine what our plan of action for reuniting with my troops is."

"No, we're going to get my body first." Starscream insisted.

"How do you propose we steal a blank for you without aid? Waltz in and ask the Autobots nicely?" Starscream's translucent optics flashed a hotter red.

"Very well, Megatron, gather your troops if you must, but as soon as you have a decent fighting force we will retrieve my new body, and I will determine what a 'decent' force is." Megatron nodded. He felt that now he and Starscream were negotiating, and it made him much more comfortable than simply taking the seeker at his word. Now when Starscream got his new body he would have some incentive to stay in line. Starscream had now sat up and begun fiddling with the console in front of him.

"Calibrate the computer to seek out Decepticon energy signals, all the newly freed prisoners will still have theirs unmasked, at least for the next few solar cycles." Megatron instructed.

"I've already done it." The seeker countered. "You can pilot this scrap heap according to my map of the nearest signals. While you're doing that I will work on a way of re-masking our soldiers."

Megatron took his seat. He looked at Starscream for a moment, seeing the intense look as the apparition set to work. He felt a twinge of wistfulness seeing his former second-in-command hard at work, doing what he did best; being ruthlessly efficient. That was why he had made Starscream second only to himself among the Decepticons, because not even zealots like Lugnut were ever as dedicated to his cause as Starscream. Megatron lamented that Starscream's dedication had festered so. The seeker had come to believe that his leader was not achieving his role, and as such must be eliminated and replaced. For Starscream the Decepticon cause was personal. It was everything. It was the only thing. No one, not even Megatron, could stand in the way of their victory. To Starscream that victory was the total annihilation of the Autobots.

They broke free of the planetoid's weak gravity and made their heading straight for the nearest Decepticon signals.


End file.
